


You Shook Me All Night Long

by lavenderfables



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Baker Dean Winchester, Beekeeper Castiel (Supernatural), Dog dad Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-Wedding, Sexual Frustration, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29570577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderfables/pseuds/lavenderfables
Summary: Cas simply wants to tend to his hives in peace. Dean, alas, is baking with ACDC at top volume.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	You Shook Me All Night Long

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a reference to ACDC's 'You Shook Me All Night Long', which is playing during the beginning of the fic.

Cas storms into the kitchen.

Dean, of course, is dancing, ACDC’s ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ on at top volume. He’s surrounded by a small storm of used cooking utensils, a smudge of flour on his cheek. The sweet smell of baking apples and pastry hangs heavy in the air.

Cas takes it all personally.

He has been trying to tend to his bees in peace for the last hour, to no avail. The thud of drums and twang of guitars grates on the poor creatures, and Cas’s nerves, too.

Well, he’s done.

He’s had enough.

Like the avenging angel he once was, Cas zeroes in on the stereo.

Dean, spotting him, is having none of this.

Blocking him, Dean brandishes a spoon like a microphone and precedes to sing at him. Never a man to do things by halves, Dean throws himself into it. He’s all passion, crowding Cas away from the stereo.

He’s infuriating.

He’s impossible.

He’s beautiful.

Fondness flares in Cas’s chest, overriding his exasperation.

That’s all the encouragement Dean needs: he catches Cas by the wrist and pulls him in.

And then they’re dancing to the beat of the song, one of Dean’s hands in Cas’s and the other on his waist. It’s loose and easy, and Cas finds himself laughing away the last of his annoyance.

Dean grins, jumping back into the song with renewed enthusiasm. His voice’s part challenge, part coaxing. The teasing curve to his mouth says he knows full well Cas isn’t about to join in on his singing, but that he’s going to persist anyway.

Cas rolls his eyes.

This is, perhaps, the stupidest thing he’s ever done.

With sudden intent, Dean spins Cas — once, twice, thrice. One hand anchors him. The other, ghosting along the fabric of his shirt in shivering contact. Cas is breathless and dizzy with the movement, with Dean’s touch.

A sharp tug from Dean’s anchoring hand.

Their bodies meet.

Cas’s free hand falls with a sense of inevitability to Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s finds its home once more on Cas’s waist, pulling him close and holding him there. His expression is softer now; tenderness, etched upon every feature. His gaze carries heat. It burns Cas as surely as his touch.

He whispers the next lyric like a confession and even though the song isn’t suited for softness Dean carries it there.

It’s in his voice, brimming with earnestness.

It’s in his touch, sure but gentle.

It’s in his eyes, aching as they drop like a star to Cas’s lips.

Dean’s tongue darts out to wet his lips.

Cas forgets the music, forgets his bees, forgets the whole world.

When Dean closes what little distance remains between them, it’s with reverence.

He kisses Cas, and he trembles as he does so. Lips, parted. Tongue, tentative but seeking. Wanting. He kisses Cas like he still can’t quite believe he’s allowed to, even now. There’s an ache to it, a longing.

It’s a kiss trying to say something too important for words.

Cas’s hand finds its way to Dean’s jaw, stubble scraping his palm as he kisses Dean back. His lips are his answer. His tongue is a promise.

It’s pray.

It’s worship.

It’s revelation.

When the timer goes off for the pie in the oven, Cas groans against Dean’s mouth.

He truly hates that timer.

Dean laughs at him, because he’s a bastard. He’s lucky Cas loves him.

“Just a second, angel.”

Pulling away, Dean hurries through the task of turning the oven off and setting the pie on the windowsill to cool.

Impatient, Cas crowds Dean against the counter the moment he turns back to him.

This kiss is hungrier than the first, a need sparking then taking.

He heaves Dean roughly up onto the counter, devouring the pleased noise that escapes him. Cas presses in, needing to be close.

Closer.

Closer still.

Dean’s hands, meanwhile, have found their way upwards. One fists in Cas’s hair. The other is hooked around one of his shoulders, clutching at him with a burning need.

It’s perfect.

So, of course, Miracle chooses that moment to come barrelling into the kitchen. Wild with energy after his afternoon nap, he dances about them with reckless joy, pawing at Cas and generally trying to insert himself where he currently wasn’t wanted.

Cas drops his head to Dean’s shoulder in defeat. “Curse that dog.”

“Hey!” Dean cuffs Cas on the back of the head, hard. Cas rears back, indignant. “That’s our son you’re talking about,” Dean scolds.

“That is physically impossible, Dean. He’s a dog.”

Dean refuses to bend to the rules of possibility. “He’s our son. Aren’t you, boy?”

“You’re delusional.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

This is, frustratingly, true.

Dean, of course, laughs at him. “Come on, buddy. Let me down. I’ve got to tidy up.”

Cas does no such thing.

He’s putting his foot down. Enough is enough.

First, the music.

Now, this.

There comes a time in every angel’s life when they need to take a stand and say, _No, I will not be cockblocked by a dog. Not again._

This is Cas’s line in the sand.

“Miracle, down.” He infuses just a hint of his grace into the words.

Miracle flops down onto the floor as if it’s entirely his own decision to do so.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Asshole.”

He’s insufferable.

“I’m the asshole? You’re the one who interrupted me with your music. I told you I was doing maintenance on the hives today, but no. You just had to—”

“Come on, man!” Dean cut in. “You know I can’t bake without ACDC.”

Cas’s patience goes up in flames.

Dean Winchester is, without a doubt, the most obtuse and irritating being Cas had ever met.

Cas loves him dearly.

It takes all his strength to remain civil. “You could have just waited until I was done,” Cas grates out.

“Nah.”

Is it possible to die of exasperation?

“Besides,” Dean went on, “you would’ve been out working on the hives until midnight if I hadn’t interrupted.” As he speaks, one of his hands finds their way to Cas's chest. Absently, he traces the skin above Cas’s shirt’s collar.

The touch is maddening. It burns. It makes him shiver. Cas can’t think; where thought ought to be is the dull roar of a star, shining.

“This way, I get you all to myself, no bees included, and there’s pie.” Dean's voice is quieter, rougher. There’s a breathlessness to it, Dean as affected as Cas.

“You...”

Cas has trouble keeping up with their conversation. It takes a herculean effort to continue.

“You could have just told me.”

“This way's more romantic, and—” Dean clears his throat. He looks down at his fingers tracing Cas's collar, as if for courage. “I wanted to dance with you, man. We haven’t... We haven’t danced since the wedding.”

And it hurts. It hurts how much he loves Dean in that moment.

Sighing, Dean ruefully shakes his head. “I know I should’ve just said something, but I'm still new to all this. I'm not used to being able to ask.” He raises his gaze to Cas's, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Cas understands.

He’s as new to this as Dean is. Having still feels like a miracle.

They truly are a pair, the two of them.

Cas isn’t annoyed anymore. Instead, there’s a lightness, a fondness.

He loves Dean, well and truly and so thoroughly that he defied God himself.

And Dean… Dean loves him back, has loved him for just as long. Secretly. Silently.

Miraculously.

Inevitably.

Cas draws back from Dean, taking care not to stand on Miracle as he does so. He holds out his hand. “Dance with me, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “All right, Casanova.” Hopping down from the counter, he takes Cas’s hand.

And then they’re dancing again; not to the music this time, but to something slower and deeper. They sway like they have all the time in the world — because, at long last, they do. They have the rest of their lives to figure this out. Perhaps, it will not be easy, but it will be theirs.

His and Dean’s.

Dean’s and his.

That’s all Cas has ever wanted.

Finally, it’s theirs.

“I love you, Dean Winchester.” It’s as simple and complicated as that.

Dean smiles. His forehead comes to rest against Cas’s, eyes closing to savour the moment. “I love you too, Cas.”

It is glorious.

Cas leans in and kisses him.


End file.
